


Karma

by orphan_account



Series: Interpersonal [1]
Category: High School Musical: The Musical: The Series (TV)
Genre: Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Piano, Popcorn, Singing, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:55:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22220659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "I wouldn't eat that if I were you," Ricky states, sitting down on the piano bench. He pulls his rolled script from his back pocket and begins to look for a Troy scene that he could work with EJ on. The faster he did this, the faster they could both leave.The faster EJ could get away from Ricky, because god knows he didn't want to be here."Mh?" EJ makes a questioning noise that rises in the back of his throat. The junior wasn't looking at him, but if he had risen is head an inch or two; he would have seen that the reason for the break in his voice was the cluster of popcorn he'd shoved into his mouth. Despite Ricky's interjection he continued to crunch on the treat, the strange texture causing his teeth to ache."It's been in that stand for like... four years," Ricky starts, still flipping through the pages, "plus I'm pretty sure I saw a rat crawl over it earlier."
Relationships: Ricky Bowen/E.J. Caswell
Series: Interpersonal [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1603699
Comments: 16
Kudos: 189





	Karma

**Author's Note:**

> I'm only 16 so don't expect this to be a literary masterpiece.

_"Troy, take your understudy and find a quiet place," Miss Jenn speaks - and a few of the cast are already side-eyeing each other, and mentally screaming at their drama teacher that this is a horrible idea, "EJ needs assistance with a few Chad and Troy one-on-one scenes, but he'll explain it further when you've got somewhere to rehearse."_

~*~

EJ tells Miss Jenn that he looked at her drama notes.

Keeping it inside was killing him, and he knows that going through her belongings was wrong and maybe he just has this streak of constantly messing up - but the fact that his audition sheet was there and it had all of the vital points of why he wasn't cast as Troy intrigued him. He felt like he needed to know why yet again, he wasn't _good enough._

So he tells her. He stands in front of her and twists his fingers into knots, his eyes flickering left and right and never focusing her own. EJ's waiting for a shoe to fall, for her to tell him that he can't be fixed. That he'll be second place forever, stuck in a perpetual state of losing to someone better.

But she doesn't.

Her well manicured hand rubs down his upper arm, and with a voice that's feather-soft and slicked with honey (yet teeters gently on the line of brutally honest) she hums:

"You're a great actor, sweetie. And as a great actor you should know you're not fit for every role. Just because you lack an emotional connection to the material, doesn't mean you'll never get the lead again. You just need to work on it, do you understand?"

And _yes_ , EJ thinks, _I do._

"Could you help me?" the senior asks, and he hates the way the words ring in his ears. He's never been this vulnerable before, this open - and it's new and strange and burrows an empty gaping hole deep into his chest. But it seems to work on his drama teacher, and his ego - just after being shattered in a single hit - is embraced gently by her next words.

"Of course I can."

Now, if EJ knew that her idea of helping would be to pair him up with Ricky Bowen, he would have turned tail and bolted out the theatre doors immediately. He hated the idea of it, and after taking a moment to scan the cast that stood on the stage, he saw Ricky wasn't too happy either.

The boy in question grit his teeth, and proceeded to pinch the area beneath his brow in an attempt to fend off the oncoming headache forming at the sound of EJ's name. 

_Great. This'll be fantastic._

From a few metres away, EJ is pretty sure he can see the cogs turning in the boys head. The metal grinds against metal and Ricky full body winces when coming to the realisation that he couldn't get out of this. So, he takes a deep breath, nods as if he has a choice to accept the painful demise looming over his head - and as he walks past the senior he gestures for him to follow.

To the surprise of all the high-schoolers, Elijah James Caswell does so without complaint. Simply turns on his heel and follows the guy whose like a head shorter than him out into the hall, walking slowly past the ticket booth and the popcorn machine with the frayed wire at the plug. When he stops to scoop some of it into one of the loose boxes stacked on the counter, Ricky turns and raises an eyebrow - watching as the older boy frantically fills the striped box. The popcorn feels like styrofoam between EJ's fingers, and he's never really been a fan; but he reckons that he needs an excuse to not engage in awkward conversation. 

When he's finished, he proceeds to follow closely behind Ricky as they enter a side room that looks something like a huge supply closet.

It's dark, damp, and smells like sweat and stuffy furniture - but Ricky decides to use his brain and turn on the light, which EJ supposes is a remedy to a third of the issues. A piano is pushed against the far wall, old props and torn costumes cluttering musty furniture that was probably used for onstage furnishings four years ago. EJ is pretty certain the room was supposed to be white, but it's taken on an ugly brown tinge that's bled through the cream wallpaper and soaked the walls in rot.

"I wouldn't eat that if I were you," Ricky states, sitting down on the piano bench. He pulls his rolled script from his back pocket and begins to look for a Troy scene that he could work with EJ on. The faster he did this, the faster they could both leave.

The faster EJ could get away from Ricky, because god knows he didn't want to be here.

"Mh?" EJ makes a questioning noise that rises in the back of his throat. The junior wasn't looking at him, but if he had risen is head an inch or two; he would have seen that the reason for the break in his voice was the cluster of popcorn he'd shoved into his mouth. Despite Ricky's interjection he continued to crunch on the treat, the strange texture causing his teeth to ache.

"It's been in that stand for like... four years," Ricky starts, still flipping through the pages, "plus I'm pretty sure I saw a rat crawl over it earlier."

EJ gags.

The popcorn falls from his mouth in a wet gooey pile on the floor, held together by saliva and regret. When he remembers he's holding the box, the senior tosses it halfway across the room and lets the stale popcorn scatter across the carpet. 

"And you couldn't have told me!?" EJ cries as he runs his tongue along his teeth and tries to spit out the rat hairs and popcorn chunks that rest on his tongue.

Ricky shrugs, "wanted to see how far you'd go with it."

A weird sound comes from the back of EJ's throat - a snort, he realises - and he watches as Ricky folds back the booklet and grips it tightly in his hands. Meanwhile the junior is worrying his lip between his teeth, layering his rosy mouth in a thin sheen of saliva and wishing he was anywhere but here. 

Where he and EJ could possibly murder eachother. Where nobody would find his body.

"So what do you need my help with?"

And EJ realises that he has to come clean about being a snoop yet again.

"I uh-" he pauses, searching for the right words as he shakes the dust from an old suit jacket resting over the back of an armchair. Gold thread decorates the lapels - and it would have been pretty handsome if it didn't smell like stale sweat and old cologne. He puts it on anyway, the white sitting nicely against his slightly tanned skin; and while Ricky doesn't appreciate EJ making this longer than it has to be, the jacket does look...good... on him. Maybe. 

It's also looks like an Elvis staple, and neither Ricky nor EJ want to know how long _that_ has been in this room.

"... Well, I kind of- looked through Miss Jenn's drama file? And I found out that one of the reasons I didn't get Troy, was because I lacked an," he lifts his fingers to form air quotes, " 'emotional connection to the material'. So I asked for help, but instead of working with me herself, she passed me off to you."

A pregnant pause rests in the air, and they both look at each other in silence for mere moments before Ricky begins to laugh. It's a short burst of disbelief, but it leaves his chest in a way that EJ finds himself wanting to hear yet again.

"Okay. Let's do this. Literally the only emotional scenes I can think of are flirty ones between Troy and Gabriella, and I highly doubt you want to do one of those," Ricky starts, "so turn to- oh there's a scene between Troy and Chad on page thirty four."

It takes EJ a minute, but the lines are suddenly in front of him. However they don't look familiar.

"Did Miss Jenn cut this scene?" he asks, and Ricky nods.

"She must have. We haven't practiced it yet, so I doubt we're gonna start it three days before the show," he explains, "but since we aren't using it in the show, we could work on it as a sample. Instead of trying to copy what I do in rehearsals, we could make this like a test? Like…you put your own spin on it… or... something."

"Yeah, sure. Let's do it."

Ricky and EJ jump straight into the script, not once reading through to memorize lines.

" _What spell has this elevated-IQ temptress girl cast that suddenly makes you wanna be in a musical?_ " EJ reads, wincing slightly at the phrasing. Ricky makes a face too - knuckles tightening round the paper at his own mistake.

" _Look, I just did it. Who cares_?"

" _Who cares? How about your most loyal best friend?_." 

_Eesh,_ EJ thinks, _that sounded fake even to my own ears._

"Look," EJ continues, reading further in the script and sighing, "you're a hoops dude, not a music- can we not do this scene? Please?"

Ricky looks at him, eyes squinted in an amalgamation of confusion and disbelief.

"While I don't enjoy relating to this script more than I have to, usually you love to take a crack at my expense," he quips, and starts flicking through the script again to pick a different scene that hopefully won't cause them to kill each other.

EJ looks down, crosses the room and sits down on the piano seat next to Ricky.

"That was the old EJ," he admits, "the new one just wants a friend. Or… someone."

Ricky stays silent, but even though his fingers still fan through the pages, his gaze finds EJ out the corner of his eye. After a moment the script is ditched, joining the floor with the stale popcorn - and instead of trying to keep the peace, Ricky's moved on to another form of distraction. 

The piano.

"Listen, I know you hate me-" the senior begins, and he watches as Ricky's skinny fingers brush against a few of the piano keys. The music notes drift through the air and EJ can one hundred percent say that he's never heard the melody before, "but can we like, not do that anymore? The jealousy over Nini is getting old- plus, I don't think I like her anymore. Not like that anyway. I mean, she's lovely. But I screwed up the relationship because I didn't trust her, which was totally my fault, not hers. She wasn't actively trying to get back with you."

EJ leaves a spot for Ricky to say something. Do something. Anything.

"When I was with Nini, I was terrified," the junior offers at a whisper, and it's so soft that EJ has to strain to hear it, "I was scared of falling out of love like my parents did, and hurting her in the long run. So I get it. And I never hated you, I just - you were right. I was jealous. But for the same reason as you, I'm not anymore. But it's okay if you still have issues with me, because I definitely deserve for you to rip my head off for throwing that basketball, but I said it in the guys bathroom while trying not to stare at your abs - and I'll say it again - I'm sorry."

And it's so quiet, so nervous; and EJ is so confused.

While he fully appreciated the comment about his physique - Ricky had to stop himself from staring at his abs?

More importantly, EJ - Ricky didn't like Nini anymore.

While he's registering the proposition of a truce, the boy in front of him begins to grow a deep shade of crimson after realising what he'd said during his tangent - but in addition to that, he begins to quietly hum along with the tune created by his fingers in the hopes of distracting EJ from his stupid slip up.

'Falling in and out of love, can make it hard to love yourself. Someone puts you on a pedestal then leaves you on the shelf - and you're left to wonder what you did or didn't do enough. Painfully you tell yourself you are not worthy of their love…'

"That's… really nice," the senior smiles, listening as Ricky's voice trails off yet the boy continues to press on the keys, "sad, but really nice."

"Thanks," the younger of the pair says, accepting the compliment and slowly bringing the little session to an end. His teeth find their way back to his lip eventually, and EJ knows with a single look that something is swirling in Ricky's brain and battering against his skull looking for a way out.

"What is it?"

A pause.

"It's just, I think if I didn't screw things up with Nini and you two didn't get together or something, that we might've been friends? Maybe?"

Elijah laughs, and shakes his head.

"Nah," he starts, and Ricky looks at him as if waiting for a bout of mocking laughter, "without the whole Nini thing, you wouldn't have joined the production. We wouldn't have met, I don't think."

And Ricky turns his head, a sheepish smile gracing his features and his eyes glinting in the lowlight, and he counteroffers.

"It's dumb, but I feel like fate exists? That I was meant to meet everyone in the cast and crew," and he shrugs when EJ turns to look at him. Ignoring the fact that they're a few centimetres apart, Ricky continues, "that I was meant to know you, in a way. But I just haven't figured out how quite yet."

Their breaths fan across each others faces, and before the EJ knows what he's doing; he's brushing his nose softly against Ricky's and joining their lips in a way that causes both their stomachs to flutter and hearts to pound fiercely in their chests. At first, Ricky is pliant. His whole frame sags as he sinks into the moment, his body warmer weighing down his shoulders - or maybe it's how the boy across from him is dragging his tongue along his bottom lip. EJ is cradling the back of Ricky's neck, brunet curls wedged between his fingers as he softly tugs. Both of their lips are soft yet the junior's are slightly bitten, and copper graces their mouths as they find themselves joined in a dance that they'd never once rehearsed.

Ricky lets his mouth fall open in a short moan, and before EJ can do anything whatsoever in order to further the kiss - the door to the room is opening and EJ _shoves_ on reflex.

In a split second Ricky is lying on the ground, knees bent and the soles of his Vans pressed against the filthy four-year-old carpet decorated in filthy four-year-old popcorn.

"What the fuck- dude!" comes a voice, one he knows didn't come from Ricky because EJ is staring at his mouth and his rosy cheeks and how they're shining in the light of the lamp too. The boy's curls fall in a halo around his head, chest slowly falling and rising as he tries to catch his breath. 

When EJ looks up at the door frame, Big Red is standing with what seems like a scowl stamped on his face.

"We're ordering pizza," he sneers at EJ, nose scrunching in anger and his tone sharp at the edges. Then the redhead turns to his friend whose taken to resigning to his fate, and has not yet moved from the floor. When he speaks again, amusement floods his voice, "and you need to get up before a rat chews off your ear."

Ricky shrugs. Lays starfish.

The pair must look an absolute sight, with Ricky sprawled on the floor accompanied by a ball of popcorn that rests a few centimetres from his head - that's also sticky with saliva; as well as EJ who had just given him the most powerful shove and was wearing an Elvis jacket that was at least two sizes too small. 

"Let them," Ricky sighs, a smirk tugging at his lips, "nobody's nibbled on my ear in months."

EJ splutters out some form of gargled response, but Big Red full on _cackles_ , and no sooner has he appeared is he turning away and walking back to where he came from. 

The senior begins to apologise, walking over to Ricky and offering out a gentleman's hand. With one swift tug, EJ lands on top of him with a forced 'oof', knees bracketing Ricky's hips and arms either side of his head - narrowly missing his soggy rat hair popcorn ball.

"I am so sorry!" he tries, but Ricky just smiles up at him before curling the jackets white lapels in his fingers - and pulling down EJ for yet another kiss.

It's more teeth and tongue than their first one, with Ricky in a mindset where he needs to be attached to EJ in order to breathe. The smaller of the pair has shifted one of his hands to rest on the seniors face, fingers splaying past his ear and keeping the hair on the side of his head firmly in place to stop EJ from moving.

EJ is panting, gasping as he lowers his upper body and brackets himself on his forearms, his own fingers twisting in chestnut curls and tugging harder than last time. Their noses are knocking together as they trip over each others steps, teeth clattering and breaths shaking…

Ricky pulls back, hands pressed against EJ's chest as his eyes widen in horror. And before EJ can ask what's wrong, the boy beneath him is turning his head and spitting onto the carpet.

"What was that for?" is accompanied with an offended noise.

Ricky grimaces.

"I forgot about the popcorn," he admits, covering his mouth with the back of his hand, "oh god."

And EJ wriggles his eyebrows, leaning down and aiming for Ricky's lips - but his kiss misses the mark and attaches to Ricky's forehead as he shifts his head lower.

"That's karma," the senior grins, holding Ricky in place and pressing chaste kisses all over his cheeks as the boy wriggles and laughs below him, scrambling to get out from EJ's clutches.


End file.
